


to live for the hope of it all

by nevergonnacallmedarling (superbestfriendsandsoulmates)



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, First Kiss, First Time, Flirting, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Normal AU, Pining, Sexual Tension, Sharing a Bed, Strangers to Lovers, baz randomly has a nipple piercing, shep is a thot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 09:54:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30137775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superbestfriendsandsoulmates/pseuds/nevergonnacallmedarling
Summary: “I properly look at him now, and I realise this must be the Baz guy they were talking about earlier. He has long hair for a guy, tan skin, similar to Penny’s; his nose is a little bit bent the wrong way, and his eyes are the most beautiful shade of grey. He’s way, way too fucking fit to be real.He’s, annoyingly, the literal definition of tall, dark and handsome. He might be the most handsome guy I’ve even seen in my life, actually.Oh my God, I just spilled beer all over the most handsome guy I’ve even seen in my life. I want to die.”Simon and Baz meet at Watford University’s LGBTQ+ Society.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 18
Kudos: 140





	to live for the hope of it all

**Author's Note:**

> this is me once again trying to learn how to write things under 10k (yes, i’ll count 9.1k as a win 😂) this time i even let myself write it all in simon's pov tho, as a treat. (next time i might try an under 5k fic, but i’m not sure i’ll be able to pull it off 😂) anyway, here you have a lot of fluff, even more pining, a little bit of sexiness, and our boys being idiots, just like everything else i've ever written, honestly (no misunderstandings this time tho, you're welcome.) hope you like it 💜
> 
> (title from august by taylor swift 💖)

I don’t know what the hell I’m doing here.

I’ve been hiding in the corner like an idiot for at least ten minutes. The door is open, so I can hear there’s already people inside; but I can’t get my legs to move to save my life. It’s like I’m suddenly glued to the floor.

It wouldn’t even have crossed my mind to come if it wasn’t for Penny. “ _It’s already been two weeks, and you haven't even talked to any of your classmates,_ ” she said three days ago, while I was at work cleaning tables. “ _You should join a society or something; it’s what I did last year. It’ll give you an excuse to socialise._ ”

The next day she sent me a picture of an advert for the introductory gathering of the LGBTQ+ Society. “ _I think you should join,_ ” she said.

I told her I would, because I usually do whatever she says. If she thinks it’s gonna be good for me, she’s probably right. (She’s _always_ right.) But now I’m not sure I can actually do it.

I don’t know why I’m making such a big deal out of this. It’s just a university society. And it’d be nice to have friends besides Penny.

But it’s an LGBTQ+ Society, and I’ve only known I’m not straight for, like, two months now. I don’t even have a label figured out yet. I don’t know _anything_ about being queer. 

“ _That’s precisely why you should join,_ ” says the voice in my head (the one that sounds suspiciously like Penny.) I know that surrounding myself with queer people will only do me good. It will help me understand myself better. _I know that._

But what if they don’t like me? What if the only thing we have in common is our sexuality? Just because neither of us is straight doesn’t mean we have to get along. _Right?_

(And what if I’m not queer enough for them? What does it even mean, being _queer enough_?)

 _For fuck’s sake, Simon, calm down._ It’s just a society. They wouldn’t be in a society if they didn’t want to meet new people. They'll probably be nice, and it will be a fun time. I’ll meet people like me and make new friends and be a normal nineteen-year-old trying to survive university.

(And I can always never come back, if I hate it that much.)

I breathe deeply a couple of times and start walking before I lose my nerve.

(***)

“Oh my God, guys,” says a tall, black girl with short purple hair as soon as I step foot inside the room. “Someone new showed up!” 

She and a also black, even taller guy approach me immediately, the other four still sitting at a table. “Hi! I’m Keris, and this is Shepard. What’s your name?”

“I’m, _emm_ ,” I stutter, stupidly. (I didn’t anticipate such enthusiasm.) “Simon. Simon Snow.”

“Nice to meet you, Simon,” says Shepard, shaking my hand. “You’re a first year, aren’t you? I think I’d remember you if I had seen you before.”

“ _Emm_ , yeah,” I mumble again, probably blushing all over. _Is he flirting with me?_

“Fucking hell, Shep,” says Keris. “Go easy on him, you just met the guy.”

“Sorry,” he says, not looking actually sorry at all. “He’s just - have you seen him? With those curls and freckles. He’s adorable.”

“I _know_ he’s adorable, I have eyes,” she agrees. ( _Why are they talking about me as if I’m not literally in front of them?_ ) “But he’s the only new one that has showed up for now, and I’ll never forgive you if you scare him away.”

He sighs, dramatically. “Okay; I’ll control myself.”

Three minutes in and I’m already regretting showing up. (These people might actually be too much for me. I’m gonna kill Penny.)

But I can’t just leave _now,_ so when Keris says “c’mon, I’ll introduce you to the rest,” I have no other choice but to follow her.

(***)

Half an hour later I find myself sitting with these people, beer in hand, and it’s actually not _that_ bad.

There’s eight of them (I repeat their names in my head over and over so I don’t forget): Keris, Shepard, Dev, Niall, Trixie, Gareth, Rhys and Baz - who’s not here yet. (“ _Where in the name of Madonna is your cousin, Dev?_ ” asked Keris as soon as we sat. “ _Why the fuck should I know?_ ” he replied.)

I’ve learned that they meet Wednesdays and Fridays, and that Keris and Shepard are the oldest, the rest being second years. But, mostly, they’ve been asking me questions.

I’ve told them I’m studying social work, and that I’m actually nineteen; I just took a gap year to work and earn some money first. I’ve also told them I share a flat with my best friend, and Trixie asked me why I haven’t brought her with me. “ _She’s straight,_ ” I explained. They all groaned in unison, disappointedly.

(***)

I stand up to go to the bathroom, and the original plan was to just flee unannounced, but now I’m thinking I might actually come back. (We’re in the middle of a very intense _Monopoly_ game; there’s no way I’m leaving now.)

But, at the same time I’m getting out, someone’s getting in, inevitably collapsing with one another.

“What the actual fuck?” the guy swears, and I realise I’ve just spilled the beer I, for some reason, still had in hand all over him. _Fuck_. 

“Oh my God,” I say, looking at the mess I’ve made of his shirt. “I - I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Who the hell are you?” he asks, trying to clean himself with a posh handkerchief he seems to casually carry on with him.

I properly look at him now, and I realise this must be the Baz guy they were talking about earlier. He has long hair for a guy, tan skin, similar to Penny’s; his nose is a little bit bent the wrong way, and his eyes are the most beautiful shade of grey. He’s way, way too fucking fit to be real.

He’s, annoyingly, the literal definition of _tall, dark and handsome._ He might be the most handsome guy I’ve even seen in my life, actually.

Oh my God, I just spilled beer all over the most handsome guy I’ve even seen in my life. _I want to die._

“Baz!” yells Keris, before I can answer. _So he really is Baz._ “Be nice to Simon, he’s new!”

“I don’t have time for freshers,” he says, walking past me, not even bothering to look at me for a second longer.

What does he mean, he doesn't have time for _freshers_? He says it like he's so above me. Who the hell does he think he is?!

"Look, mate," I say, while he's opening the mini fridge and grabbing a beer of his own. "It was an accident, and I've already said I'm sorry. There's no need to be a dick about it."

"Look, _mate_ ," he says, clearly mocking me. "This shirt alone must cost more than everything in your wardrobe. And your apologies won't pay for it."

Oh my God, what a fucking twat. (I should've seen it coming. There's no way someone that good looking could also be a good person. No one can be _that_ perfect.)

"You're such a fucking twat," says Niall, reading my mind. "Why are you late, anyway?"

I don't stay long enough to hear his answer.

I get out, not even stopping to the restroom. I go straight home instead.

(***)

I see Baz again two weeks later.

I'm sitting alone at the university cafeteria, drinking a disappointing coffee and eating two dry scones. I have approximately ten minutes until my first class of the day starts when I see him walking my way.

(I almost choke on the damn scone.)

"Good morning," he says, sitting in front of me, as if we're friends. As if he didn't literally treat me like shit on the only interaction we've ever had.

"What do you want?" I straight up ask.

"You have to come back this Wednesday."

That's the last thing I was expecting him to say. "Excuse me?"

"Look, you're the only new one that showed up this year," he explains. "And the others are mad at me for scaring you away. They're obsessed with the society growing, and, for some reason, they're already very fond of you, it seems. So, they sent me to apologise and convince you to give us another chance."

I can’t help but snort. This guy is fucking unbelievable. “You realise it doesn’t count as a real apology if you’re being forced to say sorry, don’t you?”

He blushes a little bit at that, surprisingly. (God, he really is pretty. _Why does he have to be so pretty?_ ) “I - I admit I wouldn’t be doing this if it weren’t for them. But, I’m actually sorry, for all it’s worth. I’m not usually _that_ much of a dickhead. And you do seem, _emm_ , nice, actually. So, yeah. I’m sorry. Will you please come back?”

Fucking hell, it’s infuriating how handsome he is. And it’s very pathetic how much I wanna say yes, just because he’s looking at me like _that._

But I can’t let him win; not this easily. “I’ll think about it,” I manage to say at last.

(***)

I end up showing up again on Wednsday, because of fucking course I do.

(I’m a disappointment to myself.)

“Oh my God, guys,” exclaims Keris, the very moment I enter the room. “He’s back! Simon’s back!”

“ _Emm,_ yeah. Hi,” I say, awkwardly waving my hand. 

"Quick, let's add him to the group chat, so he can't ghost us again," says Rhys, phone already in hand.

They all look very happy to see me again; Shepard and Keris literally hug me, even. (Once again, I wasn’t anticipating that much enthusiasm.)

“I’m glad you’re back,” says Baz once those two have let go of me.

“Are you really?” I ask; I still don’t trust him completely. I still don’t have him figured it out, like, at all.

“I am,” he says. He’s actually smiling, for once; I’m pretty sure it’s the first time I see it. (It looks good on him.) ( _Of fucking course it does._ ) “Truce?”

He does sound sincere, I’ll give him that. (And his eyes are so grey, and his hair looks so soft…)

I sigh, giving up. “Truce,” I say, shaking his hand.

(***)

I’ve gone to three gatherings by now, and I have to admit I’m having a good time.

All we do is play board games, watch movies and drink beer, but it’s fun. _These people_ are fun. And, even though they have known each other for years and despite being the only new one, I feel pretty integrated in the group already. I feel like I have _friends,_ in plural, for the first time in my life.

Also, Baz and I have kept our truce, and I have to admit he’s not so bad after all. He really is a prick, don’t get me wrong; but in a fun way, most of the time. (And he’s nice to look at, which is always a plus.)

Today’s game of _UNO_ has gone out of hand, apparently; because I look at my phone when we’re all leaving and I almost choke on my own spit when I see the time.

“ _Fuck,_ ” I whisper to myself.

“What’s wrong?” asks Baz; he must have heard me, somehow.

“I lost the bus,” I explain. “And now I’ll have to wait forty five minutes for the next.”

He doesn’t say anything at first. But then, he surprises me by saying: “I can drive you home if you want.”

I was already about to text Penny to let her know I’ll be late, but I look at him as soon as his words sink in. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he says, tugging his hair behind his ear, looking at the floor instead of me. _Is he nervous?_ “I don’t mind, really.”

“Okay,” I say, at the end. I'm also feeling nervous, for some reason. “T-Thank you.”

(***)

We're halfway there when I say: "Baz?"

" _Mhmm_?" he murmurs, not losing sight of the road.

"Can I ask you something?"

"I think you just did," he says, raising one eyebrow. (I don't know how he does that.) (It’s unfairly hot.)

I roll my eyes, but I ignore his comment. I throw away my question before I chicken out. "Are you gay?"

He laughs, clearly taken aback. (It was very out of nowhere, I'll give him that.) "Are you serious? Being on the LGBTQ+ Society hasn't give that away?"

"Shut up, don't be a dickhead," I say, already regretting this whole thing. (I can feel my face burning; I must be every shade of red.) "I know you're not straight. But you could be bi, like Keris, Dev and Shep - or something else, I don't know. I'm asking if you're _specifically_ gay."

"You know what," he says, stopping at a streetlight, and looking at me. "You're totally right, for once."

“What do you mean, _for once_?” I try to mimic his only-one-eyebrow-lifted thingy, but I fail spectacularly. I must look like an idiot. 

He laughs and says, reading my thoughts: “What the hell are you doing with your face? You look like an idiot.”

“Nothing,” I say, laughing too, despite myself.

He starts the car again when the lights turn green, not looking at me anymore. “Answering your question; yes, I’m gay,” a pause. “Are you?”

“T-that’s the thing,” I admit. “I don’t really know what I am. I know I’m not straight, that I’m sure of; but I don’t know if I’m, like, fully gay or not. I had a girlfriend, back in secondary school; but it never felt right, not really. I don’t know if it’s because I wasn’t into her, specifically, or if I’m not into girls in general.”

“It’s okay to have doubts, Snow,” he says, suddenly all serious. “These things sometimes take time to figure out.”

He has a point, I guess. “How did you know you were gay?”

“I don’t know,” he replies. “I’ve kinda always known. I’ve never thought about a girl in a remotely sexual or romantic way. Like, literally never.”

Neither of us says anything for a minute, until he speaks again. “Seriously, Snow; don’t stress yourself over this. You can always go with queer if nothing else feels right.”

“Yeah, I guess,” I shrug. “It’s just that - well, this is still very recent for me. Before you guys I’ve only ever told Penny.”

“Your family doesn’t know, then?”

I flinch, out of habit. I can see on his face he realises he’s said something wrong; but I answer anyway. (It’s not really his fault; he didn’t know.) “I, well. I don’t have any. I grew up in care.”

“ _Oh,_ ” he breathes out. “Sorry. I - I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay,” I say, and before things get really awkward, I change the subject. “Does your family know?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I came out when I was, like, fifteen. My stepmother was okay with it, but I knew my father would need some time. He seems to have gotten used to the idea of it by now, though, so it’s mostly fine.”

“And what about your mother?”

This time it’s him who flinches. “She, _emm_ \- she died. When I was five. So I never got the chance to tell her.”

 _Oh my fucking God, we can’t stop making things awkward, can we?_ “Fuck, I - I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he quickly says. “We’re even now, I guess.”

That cuts the tension a bit, because it makes me laugh. “Yeah, we are.”

He laughs too and says: “God, we’re both a fucking mess, aren’t we?”

“Yeah,” I agree. “We match.”

(***)

“You know Baz, right?” I ask Penny, even though I already know she does. (She’s mentioned how they share most of their classes before.) (Which surprised me, to be honest. I would have never guessed Baz’s an English Lit student. I thought he fancied something like, I don’t know - law, or economics, or political science.) (I guess I was wrong - he's still such a mystery to me.)

We’re lying on either side of our sofa, our legs meeting in the middle. We’re both on our laptops, supposedly writing an essay, but I can see from here how she’s actually scrolling through _Twitter,_ and meanwhile I’m here staring at an almost blank document while - well. Thinking about Baz, apparently.

(I’ve been doing that a lot lately - thinking about Baz, I mean.)

“Baz Pitch?” she asks, not really paying me much attention.

“ _Obviously,_ ” I say. “How many guys named _Baz_ do you know?”

“I know him,” she says, brushing my last question off. “We share a lot of classes, I’ve told you that before. Why?”

“What do you think of him?” 

I try to sound casual, but Penny knows me too well. She smirks a little, but answers me anyways: “Well, I think he’s an asshole most of the time, but I have to admit he’s really smart. He’s a great conversationalist too; I enjoy talking to him, and I don’t usually enjoy talking to anybody. Any reason on why you’re suddenly interested in my opinion on him?”

“I - I was just wondering,” I stutter. “He was very mean to me when we first met; but he’s been, I don’t know; _nice_ , since then. He’s just - he’s just got me a little bit confused, that’s all.”

“ _Mhmm,_ ” she mutters, now full on smug looking. “So he’s been _nice._ ”

“I mean - _yeah,_ ” I look at my laptop screen again, so she might not see how flushed my face has become.

“Simon,” she says, and I already know what she’s gonna say next before she does. “Do you have a crush on Baz?”

“ _What?_ ” I ask, my voice almost an octave higher than usual. “Why - I - of course not! Why would you say that?”

“Simon, please,” she says, in that condescending tone of hers. “You can’t possibly be that thick. It’s obvious you do.”

“It’s not!” I kick her on the ankle for good measure. “I don’t have a fucking crush on him, for fuck’s sake.”

She snorts, amused. “Whatever you say, mate.”

I shigh, but I don’t say anything else. A fucking crush - I mean, that’s ridiculous. Just because I think he’s funny, and smart, and incredibly good looking, and always in my mind, and _fucking perfect_ , doesn’t mean I have a crush on him.

It doesn’t.

( _Does it?_ )

(***)

Turns out it does mean I have a crush on him.

_Fuck._

I realise three days later, when Baz comes in the coffee shop I work at. He makes fun of my uniform, and orders the sweetest thing on the menu, and laughs when I draw him as a derpy vampire on his cup. He calls me a numpty when I almost drop it before passing it to him, and blushes when he goes to pay but I tell him it’s on the house. He takes a sip and I ask him if it’s good and he says, raising that fucking eyebrow of his, “ _it’s adecuate, Snow,_ ” and it really, _really_ sounds like flirting. And then he leaves and I’m left thinking over and over again _were we flirting?_

And it hits me suddenly; fuck, I _want_ us to be flirting. It’s fun and exciting and my stomach feels funny every time I talk to him. I’ve never felt like this before, and that has to mean something.

It has to mean I have a crush on him.

( _Bloody hell, what am I gonna do now?_ )

I text Penny as soon as this epiphany comes to me.

 **Me** : _fucking hell, penny, i have a crush on baz_

She texts back not even a minute later.

 **Penny:** _Oh, Simon, I know_

 **Penny:** _I literally told you so three days ago_

(***)

This Friday’s gathering is a little bit different. It’s Niall’s birthday, so Dev has organized a party at his parents' house while they’re out of town.

They told me to bring friends, so I brought Penny with me. (They were all actually excited to meet _my straight friend_ , as they call her.)

I guess I’m the only one who has literally one friend outside the society, because there’s ten times more people than I thought there would be. (Thank God Dev’s house it’s huge; it would be a disaster if not.)

Despite all those people, I’m sitting alone on a loveseat, beer in hand, while I look at Penny and Shepard talking on the other side of the room.

Someone sits next to me, suddenly; and my heart almost busts out of my chest when I realise it’s Baz. “What are you doing here, all alone?” he asks, holding on a glass of red wine. 

He has to sit very close to me for us both to fit in the tight space, and it’s making me a little bit breathless. (My God, I really am pathetic. I liked it better when I didn’t know I fancied him…)

I answer him, trying not to let out how affected I am by his proximity. “Penny ditched me to talk to Shep. They’ve been flirting all night.”

“Of fucking course," he giggles, a silly thing; he’s cheeks are beautifully flushed, and his eyes are slightly unfocused. I think he’s a little bit drunk. ( _He’s so fucking cute._ ) "Well, actually, I’m surprised he went for her and not for you.”

I almost choke on the sip I was swallowing. “ _What_?”

“Don’t you know?” he asks, then continues when it’s obvious I don’t. “Shepard has literally snogged everyone who’s been part of this damned society since he joined. It wasn’t on purpose at first, but it’s become a challenge now. He’s literally been plotting how to get to kiss you since you’ve been part of it.”

“Oh my God,” I laugh. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t _that_. “Has he really kissed literally _everyone_ except me?”

“Yeah,” he confirms. “Even Trixie; who’s literally a lesbian. I still don’t know how he managed that.”

“Even you?” I ask, when I put two and two together.

“Even me,” he says, and I pray he doesn’t realise this is making me a little bit jealous. “And I literally never snog with anyone. In my defense, I’ll say I was very drunk; I wouldn’t have let it happen otherwise.”

I don’t wanna hear about Baz kissing somebody else (even if it’s just Shepard, and even if it clearly didn’t mean anything); so I change the subject, pointing at Shep and Penny: “Well, I’m certainly not kissing him after he’s kissed my best friend.”

He takes a sip (his glass is almost empty now) and says: “What a fucking moron; he just threw years of work out of the window.”

“He must really like Penny,” I say, hoping it to be true. Shep might casually kiss people all the time, but Penny doesn't. “I can’t believe no one told me about this Shep thing; is there anything else I should know?”

He thinks for a couple of seconds, and then says: “Well, apart from Keris and Trixie being literally engaged after being together for less than a year, Gareth and Rhys annoyingly dating on and off every few months, and Dev and Niall being obviously in love with each other and neither of them doing anything about it, no, I don’t think there’s anything else.”

“Jesus Christ,” I say, letting it all sink in. “You guys are intense, has anyone told you that before?”

“Why do you think no one wants to join our society?” he asks, finishing his drink (my beer has gone lukewarm in my hand.) “Watford might be a small university, but there’s no way we’re the only not-straight ones. The rest just think we’re too much to keep up with.”

“You might be for me, too,” I admit. He looks a little bit sad for a second, so I quickly add: “But you’re the only friends I have besides Penny, so I’m not leaving now.”

“You’re also my only friends,” he pushes his shoulder against mine. “And I’m glad you joined.”

He’s kinda looking at my lips now, so I, of course, have to ruin the moment by asking: “Why are you being so nice to me tonight? Are you drunk?”

He snorts, uglily. (Yep, he’s definitely drunk.) (Also, _why is he so cute?!_ ) “I’m always nice to you, Snow.”

“No, you’re fucking not,” I say, without any malice; I’m laughing too.

“Yes, I am,” he insists. “You’re too fucking adorable for me to not be nice to you.”

I don’t know what to say to that; I think all of my brain cells have decided to leave the chat just now. (I can feel all my blood rise to my face; fuck, I must look like an idiot.)

Before I can do anything stupid (like kiss him, for example; I’ve always been better with actions than words), Gareth and Rhys aproach us, the first one holding a lot of paper cups on both hands.

“We’re playing beer-pong,” explains Rhys. “Wanna join us?”

Baz seems hesitant, but I convince him we play at the end.

We lose every single match.

(***)

“That’s why I didn’t wanna play,” says Baz, on his knees in front of the toilet, holding on on it for dear life. “They’re scarily good at that fucking game.”

“They really are,” I say, holding his hair out of his face. “But you’re also terrible at it, mate. You failed to score every single fucking time.”

They made us drink so much fucking beer, it’s actually embarrassing. But I must hold my alcohol better than Baz, because he’s been throwing it all up for at least ten minutes now. (In the only bathroom we found unoccupied, which happens to be an ensuite. But Baz told me it was only a guest room, so it’s fine.) (Who the hell has an ensuite to a guest room?! I don’t understand posh people.)

“Shut up,” he says, after a new wave of puke. “What are you doing still here, anyways? This is humiliating enough as it is. You should leave.”

“You’ll get sick all over your hair if I leave,” and I can’t let that happen. His hair is far too nice for him to ruin it like that.

“ _Always the hero_ ,” he says, and I can actually hear him rolling his eyes. “I can tie my hair up in a ponytail, you numpty.”

Well, he has a point; but he starts puking again, and I guess the thought is lost on his mind.

I end up staying until he seems to be done, and then he spends at least fifteen minutes brushing his teeth with an unused brush he found in a drawer.

I use the toilet myself once he leaves, and when I get out I find Baz, hair up in a messy bun, and literally half naked in the middle of the room.

“W-what the hell are you doing?” I manage to ask, trying not to stare too much at him.

I fail spectacularly; of course I do. But he’s distracted with taking his jeans off; so he doesn’t seem to notice.

“I’m going to sleep,” he announces, now only on his pants. “You can go back to the party, though, if you want.”

I can’t believe he just undressed in front of me like that, as if nothing. Fucking hell, I can’t stop looking at him; he’s too fucking fit. He not only has abs and legs to die for, but also a piercing on his left nipple, which might be the sexiest thing I’ve seen in my entire fucking life. (It’s driving me absolutely insane.)

“You have a nipple piercing,” I say, like a fucking moron. (But it’s all I can think about. It’s probably _all_ I’ll be able to think about from now on.)

“Yeah,” he says, ungracefully getting on the bed, covering himself with the duvet. “Shepard has a matching one; we got them together.”

“Was it the same night you kissed?” I ask, for some reason.

“Yeah,” he confirms. “Again, I was drunk out of my right mind.”

“I-it suits you,” I say, feeling brave all of a sudden. “It’s very hot.”

“I know it is,” he says, the cocky bastard. “Are you leaving or staying? Switch off the light either way, please.”

Is he offering me to stay here, as in getting _in bed with him_? (Dev told us we could sleep here, that there were plenty of beds; but I was planning on sharing one with Penny, not with _Baz._ )

I switch off the light as I make the impulsive decision of staying; and I regret it as soon as I realise I will have to get in my underwear too; there's no way I’m sleeping in my jeans.

“What are you doing, standing there in the dark?” he asks after a solid minute. “Come here, you numpty.”

That seems to get me out of my trance, so I get my clothes off and get to bed beside him. (He can’t see me in the dark; I don’t think so, at least.) (The comparisons between his body and mine are awfully cruel; I feel like I need to start running three times a week and eat more vegetables on a daily basis before even considering being comfortable with someone like him seeing me.)

“G’night, Simon,” he says, and I think he’s asleep before I even have the chance to say goodnight back.

The bed is pretty big, so we’re not even touching. But just knowing he’s here, next to me, _almost naked_ , makes it incredibly difficult for me to fall asleep.

(***)

I’m already awake when he opens his eyes.

I’ve been watching him sleep for the past twenty minutes, I kid you not. I know that’s a creepy thing to do, but he just looked so cute, drooling on the pillow, and his hair a mess. He looked _soft_ , for once. (He looked _perfect_ , as always.)

“Were you watching me sleep?” he asks, and I should probably feel embarrassed he’s caught me in the act, but for some reason I don’t.

“ _Yep_ ,” I admit. “You looked dead cute.”

Maybe I should learn to think before speaking, but just for his look of surprise and his red flushed cheeks, I regret nothing. “S-shut up. I’m sweaty, and hungover, and I feel like shit; I’ve literally never looked more terrible in my life.”

 _Still cute, though,_ I think, but this time it never leaves my mouth. I almost have a heart attack when I grab my phone and I see what time it is.

“ _Fuck,_ ” I say, sitting down.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“I have work in like, half an hour,” I reply. “God, I’m gonna be so late.”

He laughs, the twat. “You’re such a fucking mess, Snow.”

“I know,” I sigh, and then I remember I’m still very much naked. "I need you to close your eyes now."

He frowns. "What?"

"I have to get dressed,” I explain. “So I'll need you to close your eyes."

He snorts, clearly not expecting that. "I didn't know you were such a prude, Snow."

"I-I'm not!” I cry, and I decide to be honest, considering he still looks pretty confused. ”B-but you have abs, and footballer thighs, and a sexy as fuck nipple piercing; and meanwhile all I have are tummy rolls and weird moles all over my body. So I really need you to close your eyes."

He looks at me like I’ve lost the plot. "That’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said, and that’s saying something, coming from you,” he does close his eyes though, so I’m grateful for that.

I’m putting my jeans on when I ask. “Is there anything I can do to convince you to drive me to work?”

“No fucking way,” he says, sounding half asleep again. “Well,” he adds ten seconds later. “Maybe if you let me look; I’ll think about it.”

That makes me laugh (and blush a little.) “Not a chance,” I say; I’m almost fully dressed by now, anyways. “ _But_ , I can buy you breakfast. They have sour cherry scones too good for this world, and I can make you coffee strong enough to cure your hangover. What do you say?”

“Let me think about it,” he says, covering his whole face with the duvet. “ _Nope._ ”

“Baz, please,” I practically beg, uncovering his head again. “I’m gonna be so fucking late if you don’t. Ebb might fire me, even,” okay, that last thing it’s a fat big lie; Ebb’s just too good to fire me. But I’m desperate, at this point. “Please, Baz. Bazzy. _Please_.”

“Okay, you fucking nightmare,” he agrees, finally. “But on one more condition: don’t call me Bazzy ever again.”

(***)

It’s not even been ten minutes since Baz left (after having had his free breakfast, of course) when I get a text from him.

 **Baz:** _Just so you know, you don’t need abs or strong thighs or piercings or anything like that to be hot_

 **Baz:** _You’re lovely just the way you are, Simon_

I swear my heart literally skips a beat.

(***)

I’m gonna kiss Baz tonight.

We’ve almost kissed three times, now. The first time, we were all watching a movie in Baz's flat and I fell asleep on his shoulder. When I woke up, everyone was suddenly gone, and Baz was looking at me while running his fingers through my curls; and when I looked up at him - God, I know it’s cheesy, but I swear time stopped. He moved his hand to my cheek and he literally started to lean in when fucking Gareth (who didn’t left; he was just on the bathroom) came back and broke the spell we were into.

The second time, Baz and I were playing some _FIFA_ in my flat, and he wouldn’t stop tickling me so I would fail to score every single time. Somehow I ended up on his lap tickling him as revenge, but I stopped once I realised the compromised position we found ourselves into. We looked at each other, and we weren’t laughing anymore, and my forehead was already against his when Penny came back home earlier than expected; making us jump and put some distance between each other.

And the last time was only two days ago, when he drove me home again after our Wednesday gathering. He parked in front of my house, and we stayed there talking for at least half an hour. In a sudden act of bravery I took his hand in mine; and he blushed prettily and stuttered a couple of words, but he didn’t pull back. So we kept talking and holding hands, and he was looking at my mouth every two sentences, and I was losing my mind because I could tell he wanted to kiss me. (And I wanted to kiss him too; _so, so bad._ ) But then his phone rang (it was his aunt Fiona, asking him where he was) and the moment was lost once again.

I can’t take it anymore; the expectation is killing me. I need to kiss him already, and I’m gonna do it tonight.

We’re going to a new gay pub in town with the whole society, so it’s perfect. We’re gonna drink, and probably dance a little, and hopefully there’ll be a lot of opportunities for us to finally kiss.

I’m currently sitting on my sofa with Shep, both of us already ready, waiting for Penny to finish with her makeup. 

“I’ve decided I’m gonna kiss Baz tonight,” I announce to Shepard; there’s a better chance I stay true to my word if another person knows about my plan.

He stops looking at his phone and looks at me, eyes wide. “Really? Fucking finally, my dude.”

“I know,” I sigh.”I’m tired of pining like a fucking idiot. I’ve never had a crush this intense before, and it’s getting pathetic.”

“That’s because you not only have a crush; not anymore,” he says. “You’re literally in love with him.”

“Yeah,” I agree. He’s fucking right, isn’t he? I’m in love with him. “Fuck, _I’m in love with him_. What if he rejects me?”

“He won’t,” he quickly assures me. “He’s crazy for you too; everyone can see it.”

“Okay,” I say, trying to calm myself. We’ve almost kissed on three different occasions, he’s not gonna reject me. “Okay, I’m doing it tonight. Fuck, I haven’t kiss anyone in so long; what if I suck at it?”

“You could always kiss me first, you know,” he says, and I roll my eyes. “For practice, I mean. Or, well, I’ve kissed him before; if you kiss me it will be like kissing him too, a little bit.”

I chuckle. What the fuck does that even mean? “That doesn’t make any sense, mate. And stop trying to kiss me! You’re literally dating my best friend.”

“It’s for the greatest good; she’ll understand.”

“Greatest good?” I ask, laughing; I can’t fucking believe this guy, I swear. “What the fuck are you on about?”

“Look, I just want to be able to say I’ve kissed everyone in my society again!” he yells. “It was such a cool fact about me.”

“I don’t think it’s as cool as you think it is,” It really isn’t. He’s the only one who thinks so.

“Is my boyfriend trying to kiss you again?” asks Penny, coming into the living room; apparently she’s all ready now.

“Yep,” I say, at the same time as Shepard says: “It’s for the greatest good!”

(***)

Everything was going fine; we were drinking, Baz and I were flirting, and we were having fun. Until I went to the bathroom and when I came back I saw Baz enthusiastically talking to another guy.

I’m currently sitting on a barstool next to Niall, both of us sipping on our ron and coke in complete silence.

He breaks it by saying: “What has you so mad, all of a sudden? I can almost smell the smoke coming out of your ears.”

“Do you know who’s Baz talking to?” I ask as a form of reply.

“Yeah,” he says. “That’s Lamb. He used to be a member of the society; he graduated last year.”

 _Lamb._ What kind of name is that? And why does he have to look like a fucking model? And what is he doing, touching Baz’s arm?!

I hate him. I don’t know him; but I fucking hate the guy.

“I think Baz used to have a crush on him last year,” Niall adds. “They kissed once or twice, if I remember correctly.”

“Thank you, Niall,” I say, sarcastically. “That’s information I was dying to know. It’s helping me a lot with that smoke you said was coming out of my ears.”

He laughs, the prick. “Bloody Grimm cousins; fuck them, honestly. They’re gonna drive us absolutely mad.”

I scan the room, looking for Dev; and I find him in a corner, talking to a group of girls.

“You’ve known Dev for a long time, right?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he answers after taking a sip. “We’ve been friends since forever, basically.” 

“And why have you never told him how you really feel?” 

He looks a little taken aback by that; but answer me, at last: “Because I don’t wanna ruin our friendship if he doesn’t feel the same,” a pause. “And because I’m an idiot.”

I laugh. “You should tell him,” I say.

“Like, right now?”

That’s not what I meant, but I go along with it. “Yeah, mate; right now. Why the fuck not?”

He thinks for a few seconds. “Will you tell Baz how you feel too?”

“Yeah,” I say. “I promised myself that I would kiss him tonight.”

“Okay,” he says, swallowing the rest of his drink in one go. “I’m gonna tell him.”

He stands up and walks to him, with a confidence I could only dream of. When he gets there, he simply grabs Dev by the arm, takes him a couple of steps away from the group Dev was talking to, and kisses him right there; without saying anything first.

Well, that’s one way to tell him, that’s for sure.

Dev immediately kisses him back, because of course he does. I stop looking at them when Dev shoves Niall against the nearest wall, snogging the living shit out of him.

Well, if Niall could be brave, so can I.

I don’t kiss Baz, though; I buy him a drink he didn’t ask for and bring it to him.

“Here you have,” I say, interrupting whatever Lamb was saying.

He looks confused, but accepts it anyway. “Thank you.”

I place a hand on his lower back, possessively (for a second I worry I’m taking it too far; but I look at Baz from the corner of my eye and he looks pretty amused, so I go with it), and I say to Lamb: “Can I steal Baz for a while?”

“Of course,” he says, not losing his composure even a bit. “I didn’t know he was with you.”

“Yeah,” I say, even if that’s not technically true. He’s not here specifically with _me_. “Well, _emm_ , yeah,” I add, lamely. (I’m such a bad liar.)

“Bye, Lamb,” says Baz, surprising me. “It was nice to catch up with you.”

Once Lamb has said goodbye too, he quickly leaves, leaving us alone. 

Baz doesn’t lose any time asking: “What the hell was that about?”

He’s smiling, so I know he’s not angry; but I feel embarrassed anyway. “Nothing.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “Nothing?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, trying to hide how red my face must have become by taking a sip of my still half full drink.

“Simon,” he says, and I almost choke on it when he next asks: “Were you jealous?”

Fucking hell, I wasn’t expecting him to be so forward. “Well,” once again, I’m a shit liar. So I guess I better tell the truth. “Yeah, actually. I was.”

He clearly wasn’t expecting me to be this honest; he even raises both his brows in his surprise, instead of just the one. “Well, you shouldn’t.”

Fuck, I toke it too far, didn’t I? “I-I’m sorry,” I quickly say. “Y-you can talk to whoever you want to talk to, of course you can; I shouldn’t have intruded-”

“Simon,” he interrupts me, taking my free hand with his free one, interlocking our fingers. “That’s not what I meant. I meant there’s no reason for you to be jealous,” he looks a little bit shy, all of a sudden. “He’s - well, he’s not who I want. You _know_ who I want.”

Fucking hell, he’s gonna be the death of me.

 _I should do it,_ I think, _I should kiss him now_ , but Trixie and Keris appear out of nowhere, then; and I don’t even have time to even seriously consider it.

“Guys,” says Trixie, making us jump a little. “Do you wanna play foosball with us?”

“ _Emm,_ ” I say, trying to come out with an excuse.

“C’mon,” says Keris, immediately. “It’s gonna be fun!”

We end up playing, of course.

(***)

After playing with Trixie and Keris for at least ten matches (they won seven, we won three. Seriously, how are we so bad at team play?!), Baz asks me if I want to come outside with him while he has a smoke.

I say yes, of course; and after he’s done I tell him I’m hungry, so we decide to ditch the others and go get a kebab. (Well, _I_ get a kebab. He only sits there with me and fondly complains about my bad manners.) (“ _There’s no decent way to eat a kebab, Baz._ ”)

And now I’m walking him home; we’re holding hands and it’s amazing, but we haven’t kissed yet. We haven’t kissed yet and I’m starting to get impatient, and frustrated, and nervous. 

“Well,” he says, when we reach his building, but he never ends up finishing the sentence.

“Well,” I echo, like an absolute moron.

_Fuck, please, Lord, don’t let it get awkard. It hasn’t been awkward before now; please, have mercy._

“Are you sure you’re fine getting home on your own?” he asks at last.

“Yeah,” I say. “It’s only a, like, fifteen minute walk. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” he says. 

“Okay,” I repeat.

_Fucking hell, this is a disaster._

“Well, _emm,_ ” he lets go of my hand. “I’m gonna get inside, then.”

 _No, please._ “Yeah, okay.”

_Please, don’t leave; I haven’t kissed you yet._

“Okay,” he starts to walk away. “Goodnight, Simon.”

“N-night,” he’s already opening the building door when I get my shit together and shout: “Wait!”

He turns around. “What? Is anything wrong?”

 _Yes,_ I think. _I promised myself I would kiss you tonight and I can’t let you go before at least trying._

I don’t say it out loud, though. Instead, I close the distance separating us; I place my hands on either side of his face and I bring my mouth to his.

He whimpers in surprise at first, but he swiftly recovers, turning us around and pinning my back to the front door; his hands immediately on a tight grip on my hips, our bodies pressed together.

I open my mouth and I let his tongue in; he tastes like smoke, and mint, and _Baz_ , and it’s _so good_ , I can’t help but let out a moan.

“ _Fucking hell,_ ” he says against my mouth, once we stop to catch air.

“I like you so much, Baz,” I confess. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

“Me too,” he says, and I literally could cry right now. “I really, really like you.”

We snog for a little longer until he asks: “Wanna come inside? My aunt’s not home.”

I’ve never agreed to anything that quickly in my life.

(***)

We’re on Baz’s bed, neither of us is wearing a shirt anymore, _and_ _I can’t believe my fucking luck_.

I hold myself up on all fours above him and I make him reach up for my mouth - and he does, every time. _It’s so good_ , but it’s even better when he gets tired of it and says “come here,” while he wraps his arms around my middle and puts me down to him. We’re touching everywhere now, and the skin on skin contact is driving me wild.

I kiss his mouth, and then down his neck, his collarbones; until I reach his chest, and I’m immediately drawn to his left nipple - the pierced one. 

“I love your fucking piercing,” I say while I suck on it.

“Fucking hell, Simon,” he moans; I can feel how hard he is against my thigh. “That feels so good.”

“Yeah?” I open his legs with my knees so I can fit between them; and now my own hardness it’s directly pressed against his. I can’t help but grind down to him, and we both whimper at the same time.

“Yeah,” he says, grinding up back. (Fuck, we’re still wearing _jeans_ ; how can this feel _that good_?) “I-if you don’t want to go further we need to stop _now_.”

The implications of that makes my brain short circuit. “Do _you_ want to go further?”

“I-I’ve never gone further before,” he says. “With anyone.”

I stop, then, looking up at him. “Really?” I ask, surprised. I mean, he’s so fucking fit; I don’t believe for a second no one has never wanted to have sex with him. There’s just no fucking way.

“Yeah,” he confirms, his fingers tangled on my hair. “Have you?”

“No,” I admit, kissing his neck again. “Never. W-we can stop, if you want.”

He grabs my face and makes me face him again. He kisses me, a quick thing, and then asks: “Do _you_ want to stop?”

I think about it for a couple of seconds. _Do I want to stop?_

“No, not really,” I say at last, sincerely. Maybe it’s me being clouded by how fucking horny I am; but I don’t really want to stop.

He must feel the same way, though; because he smiles and says: “Let’s not stop, then.”

(***)

“I’m glad you’re letting me see you this time,” he says, smirking.

We’re naked now; like, literally starkers in front of each other. And he’s right, I’m letting him see me. Not only see me, but touch me too; his hands tracing all over my shoulders, my back, my chest, my thighs. I would be touching him too, if I could get over the way he’s looking at me. He's looking at me like _he’s_ the lucky one; and it might be too much for me to process right now. 

“S-shut up,” I stutter; I know he was only joking, but this is only making me more nervous. “Don’t make me think too much about it.”

He frowns. “You don’t have any reason to be self-conscious,” he’s petting my tummy now. “You’re beautiful, Simon. In every single possible way.”

“ _Baz…_ ” I sigh, lying on top of him again, and hiding my face on his neck. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” he whispers in my ear, and my skin goosebumps. “I’ve never been this turned on in my life.”

I grind against him again; and it’s so much better without any clothes between us. We keep like this for a little while until I gather the nerve to ask for what I really want: “Baz, can I blow you?”

His eyes get wide open; and I realise his pupils are so dilated you can barely see the grey in them. “A-are you sure?”

“Yes,” I say. I’ve never been this sure of anything in my life. “ _Please_.”

“Okay,” he says, breathlessly. “God, okay, _please._ ”

(***)

I don’t really know what I’m doing, but Baz seems to be enjoying it.

I can’t fit a lot more than the tip of his dick, but I wank with my hand what I can’t reach with my mouth, and it seems to be doing the trick.

I know I’m being sloppy, and uncoordinated, and I probably need a lot more practice before I can be considered good at this; but Baz is shamelessly moaning, my hair on a tight grip between his fingers, and I can tell he’s really trying no to trust his hips up. So, it must not be _that bad_.

“ _So good_ ,” he gasps, reading my mind. “Simon, that’s so good. _Fuck_.”

I keep at it for a bit; I try to involve my tongue more, and I play with his bollocks with my free hand. Based on the incredible, _amazing_ noises he’s making, I guess it’s working. ( _Fuck_ , I swear I could come just by hearing him…)

But my jaw gets tired eventually, and my own cock is getting desperate for some attention; so I kiss my way up his body, until I’m on top of him again, kissing his mouth.

“Why did you stop?” he asks, and God, he sounds so frustrated. 

“My jaw was hurting,” I explain, but before he can complain again, I wrap both of us in my hand, and whatever he was about to say gets substituted by a groan.

With his dick already slick with my spit, the friction is so fucking good, I can’t help but whimper too. “Fuck, Baz,” I say. “I-I’m not gonna last long.”

“Me neither,” he admits; he looks so close already. “M-move faster, _please_.”

I do as he says; I quicken my movements, and neither of us says anything coherent for a while.

When I reach for his pierced nipple with my free hand, tugging at it, I know he’s done for.

“S-Simon, fuck,” he’s holding on my shoulders for dear life. “I-I’m gonna come.”

“Do it,” I say, pretty close myself. “ _Come, Baz_. Let it go.”

I don’t have to tell him twice.

(***)

I come literally fifteen seconds later, and after we’ve cleaned ourselves with some tissues (Baz wanted to go clean at the bathroom, but I wouldn’t let him leave), we lay cuddled up; Baz on his back, my head on his chest. He’s playing with my hair, and I’m rubbing his belly, and _I’m in literal Heaven_.

“Was it okay?” I ask, all of a sudden, after a couple minutes of silence.

“Simon, it was amazing,” he replies, scratching the back of my neck. “I-I’m sorry you did all the work, though; I’ve just realised.”

“It’s okay, Baz,” I assure him. “It was amazing for me too. You can do all the work next time,” I joke, smirking up at him. Until I realise what I’ve said and I can’t help but add: “Because there’s gonna be a next time, right?”

He looks surprised by my question. “Of course, Simon. I-if you want to, that is.”

“Of course I want to. Baz,” I make a pause, not sure if I should tell him. Is it too soon? For some reason I feel like it’s lowkey too late, actually; so I tell him how I really feel, at the end: “I - well. I love you. I’m impossibly in love with you; and I want to take you out on dates, and have a lot more sex, and be your terrible boyfriend.”

“Simon,” he’s smiling like ever, and, _God_ , he’s so beautiful. “I-I love you too. So, _so much._ And I also want all of that.”

My face is hurting from how much I’m smiling. “Will you be my boyfriend, then?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I’ll be your boyfriend,” he kisses me, then; but I’m smiling so wide it’s practically impossible. “What’s so funny?” he asks when I start laughing.

“Nothing,” I answer. “I’m just happy. And I was just thinking that - well. We’ve had sex before we’ve even had our first official date.”

He looks worried all of a sudden. “Do you regret it?”

“No,” I quickly say. “Of course not. It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. _You’re_ the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

He looks at me fondly, and kisses my forehead while he whispers: “You too, love.”

I think he’s half asleep already when I say: “Who would’ve thought we would end like this when we first met?”

“Me,” he softly says. “I saw you and my brain short-circuited with how incredibly lovely you were.”

“Shut up,” I say, probably blushing. “You - you were so mean to me, what are you talking about?”

“Because I was taken aback by how attracted to you I already was,” he confesses. 

I laugh. “Not the best strategy, mate.”

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?” he grins. “You’re in my bed after all.”

“Yeah,” I admit, smiling too. “It shouldn’t’ve, but it fucking worked.”

I leave a peck on his neck, and then I say: “Tomorrow we’ll have to tell the rest we’re boyfriends now.”

He snorts, kissing my head. “Literally no one will be surprised, love.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! come say hi to me on [tumblr](https://nevergonnacallmedarling.tumblr.com/) :)


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